I Hate That I Love You
by tappret43
Summary: Genderbent KyleXCartman-Kylie and Erica-Kylie's perspective-Rated M for language
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, readers!**

**This is my first Kyman fic, so let me know if I get the characters wrong. This is genderbent, so I changed everyone's name. Their parents will all be their original gender for this story and siblings as well (like Ike and Gerald are still male).**

**Let me know if I make any typos, please!**

**Enjoy!**

My life is pretty simple. I'm a pretty simple girl. That is, if you ignore the fact that I have a terrible condition.

I'm lovesick.

Her name is Erica. No one calls her that, unless, of course, they have a death wish. She's gone by her last name, Cartman, since preschool. It's an understatement to call her a bitch. She's the most psychotic, ruthless, shameless, anti-Semetic, prejudiced and utterly horrible girl you've ever met.

And somehow, out of 'all the fish in the sea,' I end up head-over-heels for her. It's some sort of cruel 'fuck you' from god, leaving me with no explanation and a pounding heart whenever she walks by. I don't know why I find her so... Well, perfect surely isn't the right word for it. Perfect for _me _maybe, (ugh I'm such a girl) but otherwise full of terrible flaws and an attitude so bad it's no wonder everyone hates her. _I_ hate her! I mean, I should. And I do. But whenever she talks, be it about the weather or about how stupid I am for being red-haired or Jewish (sometimes both), I feel like her words could lull me to sleep.

Ah, sleep. What's it like to sleep next to her? I bet she's secretly really cuddly. What's it like to sleep _with-_ NO. Bad Kylie. See my problem?

Who am I? I'm a 16 year old Jewish girl from the most strict family with a crush on our friendly neighborhood Nazi. I can't deny this lingering infatuation, so I don't. I do, however, hide it for the life of me, god forbid anyone in this narrow minded redneck town of South Park find out my secret.

I believe this all began in the seventh grade.

_Long ago, in South Park Junior High..._

No. The backstory's not important. That isn't the story I'm focusing on. It's what happened a few years later, when I was 16 and a sophomore in high school.

"Come on, Stace, we're gonna be late," I yell over my shoulder, pushing my way through the sea of middle schoolers, eagerly hurrying out of class to the cafeteria.

"Yeah, yeah, hold on," my super best friend, Stacy replies.

I backtrack, grabbing her forearm before sure can protest and proceed to drag her to our usual lunch table. As soon as we arrive, we're greeted by our other friends, Kendra (who we all just nickname Kenny), Marjorine, and Cartman. Kenny waves to us as we approach, and Cartman simply turns her head, busy with her lunch.

"Hey guys," Stacy starts, all eyes now on her."Winston and I are having a party this Friday, and you're all invited."

"Oh sweet," Kenny said, smiling at Stacy. "Thanks, Stace. "

Cartman rolled her eyes. "Psh, yeah, thanks. I'd love to spend my Friday night playing spin the bottle with these idiots, " she gestured to Kenny, Butters and me, "while you play seven minutes in heaven with your fucking hippie boyfriend." She turned her head away from us again, flipping her shoulder-length chestnut (and presumably very soft- NO. Bad Kylie) hair before returning her attention to her lunch tray.

Ugh. I hate that I like her. Why does she have to abuse my feelings for her? It's almost as if she knows. What if she does know? How obvious have I been? What if she's planning on using this knowledge against me? That bitch...

Stace snaps me out of the glare I'm wearing towards Cartman. How long have I been staring?

"What about you, Kylie? You coming?"

I raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Is that even a question?"

She smiled even bigger.

"Cool. It'll probably be funner without Cartman anyway." she turned her head to face Cartman once more, an unimpressed look directed towards her, to which Cartman replied by sticking out get tongue like a little kid.

Cutie.

FUCK. SHIT. NO. I need to stop thinking these things. As far as anyone is concerned, Cartman hates me, and I hate her. That's it.

I wish that was it.

Friday night, an hour before the party, I was distracted from my mission of getting ready by my phone. I had received a text. From Erica Cartman?. Curiously, I checked it, setting down my two shirts I had been choosing between.

'hey. r u going to stacys party 2nite'

Why the hell would she need to know? It's not as if she was attending. Quickly, I type back a response.

'Yeah. Why? Are you not?'

I don't put down my phone before it beeps again.

'idk. maybe. do u want me 2'

I furrow my brow at this. Does she expect me to say yes? Why is she asking me? I try not to overthink this as I type out my next message.

'Sure. I mean, I guess so. Wouldn't really be a party without you, would it?'

After sending, I realize how creepy and clingy that must have sounded. I nervously wait a few moments for her text to come in..

'ok, jeez jew no need 2 beg.'

I facepalm as I realize what a fucking idiot I am. Of course she's going to take it that way, and chances are slim that she won't rip on me for this later.

'I was trying to be nice, asshole.'

I'm scowling as her next message comes in, but it quickly fades to a smile.

'sure. just dont b l8'

Wait. Why am I happy that Cartman's going to be there? Why did I try to 'be nice?' My heart fluttered for a second at the idea that Erica liked me, too, but that feeling was short-lived before my logical side debunked that possibility.

Whatever.

I finish getting ready and head out to Stacy's. As I'm walking, I can't help but overthink my text-versation with Cartman. Why did she text me? It seemed like I was the reason she was going to be going to the party... No. Why the fuck would Cartman do that? Last I checked, she hated me. What would change her mind to make her want to be around me? This is very unlike her.

As I approached Stacy's door, I heard sounds of laughing and loud music. It sounded like Stace invited more than just me, Kenny, and Winston.

I entered, starting to take off my jacket, when I spotted Cartman, sitting on the couch checking her phone. We made eye contact briefly before she turns her head back down to her phone.

What, no snide comment? No sweet smile followed by humiliation? You're getting unpredictable, Cartman.

She must have planned something to make an ass out of me. It wouldn't be a classic party-that -Cartman's-invited-to without it.

Come on, Cartman, make your move.

I don't realize that I'm staring again until Stacy walks over to me and hugs me.

"Hey, Kylie! We're so glad you made it! "

I snap back to reality harshly just in time to return her embrace.

"H-hi Stacy, " I stutter after we separate. I look around to finish scoping out my surroundings. Stace and Winston invited quite a few girls and boys. Winston's friends, Andy and Ben, are here along with our friends, Claire, Crissy, Twyla, and Tonya along with our usual four.

Stace speaks again. "Uh, Ky? " I turn to look at her confused face. "You forgot your sleepover stuff," she finishes.

This was a sleepover? She must have mentioned it when I was zoning out at lunch the other day. I facepalm, turning around to walk back to my house to get what I left.

My mind has been super pre-occupied lately with... Cartman. Fuck! I really need to stop thinking about her! That would be hard, considering she's going to be at a _sleepover_ party, no less, with me for the next 16 or so hours.

I take my time walking back home, hoping to kill as much time I would have to spend in the same room as Cartman as possible. I ran upstairs, throwing pajamas and a change of clothes into some bag (I wasn't paying too much attention to what I was doing. My mind was still (unfortunately) on Cartman) and shouted an explanation up to my mother as I was walking out the door.

When I came back to the Marsh residence, the girls and boys were sitting in a circle on the living room carpet with a bottle in the center, clearly ready to play the classic party game. Stace motioned for me to sit next to her by patting the carpet by her side. I smiled at her and set my bag of clothes and sleeping bag by the door and joined the circle.

"OK, you guys ready?" she asked, scanning the group for excited faces. She stopped at mine. "Kylie, you go first!"

I look at her before saying "ok" and spinning the bottle.

And wouldn't you fucking know it.

Cartman's bored expression turned into a big fat grin as she looked up from the bottle to me.

Ugh god it was going to be hard not to enjoy this.

My eyes widened, my brain going into overdrive, the "oooooh"s from the crowd completely drowned out by my nervous thoughts. Cartman was really enjoying the look on my face, which I could only have imagined looked like I was about to pass out.

Oh, fuck this.

Stace noticed my worried expression, but didn't stop the game. Instead, she tried to calm me down. "Don't worry, man it's just a game. It's not like anyone is going to remember this anyway."

Thanks, Stace. I would. It would haunt me for the rest of my life how I'd never get to kiss Cartman again after tonight. Why did I want to kiss her? Oh, my god. I really need to stop. Stop, Kylie!

I looked back nervously at Stacy as I leaned forward involuntarily. My face was inches away from Cartman's before she rolled her eyes, grabbed the sides of my face, and pulled our lips together.

I melted.

Well, I shuddered.

But I felt like I was melting. Damn, her lips were soft. It lasted only a few seconds. Shame.

As we returned to our cross-legged sitting positions, I held eye contact with her before she broke it, looking bored again, eyes drifting to the side and hand supporting her chin, elbow resting on her knee. I pressed my lips together, trying to savor the taste of her. I know that sounded bad, but hey, it's the truth!

As the night played on, Cartman kept a safe distance from me, making eye contact every once in a while, if only for a few seconds, and my head continued to fill itself with bad thoughts. I knew that I shouldn't like her. I should really fucking hate her! But I don't. And I can't. Shit, this was going to be hard.

Even as I fell asleep (at two in the morning, no less) I couldn't shake the suspicion that Cartman didn't come here to inconvenience me. That was, until I was proven otherwise. It wasn't until I was getting dressed the next morning that I found that Cartman had frozen my fucking bra. I mean, it was a harmless prank, but a prank nonetheless. I guess she hadn't changed. Same old Cartman I knew and loved.

I'm screwed.

**There's chapter one! For all you guys who like reading longer chapters, I must disappoint you by telling you that each chapter will be short, like this one. They're easier for me to write in one sitting and therefore publish sooner. I hope you understand and stick around for chapter 2!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**tappret43**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was cold and dark. And… wait, was that… mildew? For a janitors closet, it was incredibly unhygienic. The last thing I heard Cartman mumble before she stuffed me through the door and locked it was "Ugh, hold on. I gotta deal with this asshole." I assumed that she had just beat up Crissy.

Let me start from the beginning. After the party, Cartman and I had found that someone (Crissy) had been sharing a photograph of us kissing during spin the bottle. Not on any sort of social media site, but literally showing the image on her phone to her friends. I guess it didn't take that long for rumors to spread, and as far as anyone was concerned, there wasn't a game of spin the bottle. We kissed 'just cuz. '

Crissy must have really pissed off Cartman, because that following Monday she stormed into the school and made a bee-line for Crissy's locker. She had caught her culprit just in time before she left for class. I would have understood if she wanted to wait until lunch or something so she wouldn't be on such a time crunch, but her anger must have been too intense to ignore. Unfortunately, I missed the whole 'fight for my dignity' because I was stuck in a freakin' janitors closet.

I'm stuck in there for at least 10 minutes, every so often hearing sounds of lockers crashing and Cartman shouting. She finally came to get me a few minutes after the bell rings, and judging by the red-purple bruises forming on her face along with a confident look, it would have been wrong to assume she lost against Crissy.

"...Get to class," was all she said to me once she opened the door. Cartman's eye was cut around the edge and she had a few red marks, soon to become bruises. Looked like Crissy had gotten some good hits in. I looked at her in disbelief before she turned around and left me standing in the doorway of a supply closet wondering why the hell she put me there in the first place.

As per usual, I spent my first three classes overthinking the situation. My first hope was that she had put me in there to keep me safe while her and Crissy duked it out in the hall, but I once again had to remind myself that that wasn't something Cartman did. _Then why _did _she do it? _ I couldn't have asked her at lunch- we have a routine of sitting with Stace and Kenny. I would have to speak with her afterschool or pull her aside.

Lunch period couldn't have come soon enough, but when I reached the cafeteria, I saw that Cartman was sitting on the far end of our usual table, isolated from our friends. I hurried over to her, taking a seat across from her.

"Why are you sitting so far away?" I asked. Y'know, first things first.

Cartman merely scoffed and looked away from me. "I'm surprised you joined me. What with all the-" She stopped herself mid-sentence, eyes darting left to meet the cold glare of Crissy. I had half-turned in my seat to see who she was staring at, not surprised in the least that it was the girl Cartman had beat up earlier this morning.

"Who won, anyway?" I interrupted, forcing Cartman's stare over to me, then back to anywhere but me. After seeing the look of annoyance on her face, I quickly changed the subject. "I-I mean, w-why did you, um, put me in the...:" her body language calmed considerably and she resumed eating as if I weren't there. "... janitors closet?" I cocked my head to the side, seeing if she's ok, then cleared my throat to get her attention.

"Kylie," she made her voice stern and direct, "what with all the _rumors_, I find it _surprising _that you're _sitting _here with me." She picked up from where she left off, confusing me a bit more.

"What rumors?" I had spent my weekend not socializing (Friday night aside), so I would have had no idea that social media websites were buzzing about the school's "hot new lesbian couple."

"Ugh, jesus christ, Ky," she muttered, resting her face in her hands. "I mean the rumors that you and I," Cartman was very hesitant to state this, "... are a thing." She lifted her head up so I could see the distress in her features, to which I responded by shuddering and shrinking in my seat.

"W-why would people-" I started, face flushing, before she cut me off.

"Because, Kylie. In high school, when two people kiss, everyone else loses context and they're 'dating.'" Cartman had a lethal amount of impatience in her voice. It was obvious that she didn't want to have to explain this to me.

"Spin the bottle…" I realized, or, at least, pretended to realize so Cartman didn't think I had cherished the moment. "How did word get out so quickly?" My voice cracks a little at this and I know I'm screwed.

"Well, christ, Kylie, I don't know!" Here it comes. "It's not like _Ben__and Andy_, the two most infamous gossip hotspots at the school were there with _camera phones_, or anything!" Cartman exploded, which caused many eyes to look in our direction.

Of course. Someone had to have taken a picture. People had a somewhat believable story about frenemies becoming lovers _and_ hard photographic evidence? I couldn't honestly say that that was going to be an easy thing to take care of.

"Why do you care so much?" I honestly inquired, not meaning any kind of personal offense. "I mean, rumors don't normally make you lose your cool." They really didn't, so I had no idea why Cartman was being so defensive about this one. Well, I may have had an idea, but who wouldn't have liked to assume that their crush likes them too?

"I care because I have a rep." A rep? "That is, I value how other people see me. And I don't- I repeat: DO NOT- want people to see me as that girl who used to be cool then started dating the dumb ginger Jew."

Ouch.

She laughed a little. "And before you get any ideas, I want you to know, first and foremost, that that kiss on Friday was nothing more than me playing along with their stupid game. I just wasn't in the mood for Stace to flip out on me for not participating. I do not, nor will I _ever_ want to kiss you again, let alone let these rumors become true. Unlike you, _I_have standards!"

She gave her heartbreaking speech in a volume and tone so you could tell from a mile away that she was disgusted.

My heart felt like it was being shredded and I couldn't wipe the hint of pain from my face. Dammit, she was supposed to have thought that I didn't like her either! I closed my eyes briefly, breathed in, and opened them.

"And I have common sense. This is _not_ the place to be arguing (loudly) about this. If you want to get pissed, do it where a million people _aren't_ watching and listening! If you'll excuse me," I stood up promptly and retrieved my backpack from under the table. I had to go somewhere to get this all in order.

Had she been acting like that to put on a show? Earlier she had shown signs of caring about me, even just a little, but then again I may have just be reading into this too deeply. I honestly felt like crying, even though I had no right to. She didn't know of my feelings, so why would she have had to be nicer about any of this? I ran to the girls bathroom to try and hide from my feelings, but they're freakin' leeches, man. They fend off of the pumping of your heart and as long a you live they haunt you.

Feelings can fuck with your head, though. Sometimes, you think that what's in your head is logic because it seems so right and obvious, but it's just the feelings trying to mess with you. My feelings have been doing that for a while, apparently. Cartman was still the same cowardly, selfish, arrogant bitch she had always been. Why had I been so blind to that lately? She shouldn't be the one ruling my thoughts and judgement. It would be insane of anyone to reserve a part of your life for a manipulative person like Cartman, in her case, the throne.

God, why couldn't I have liked someone- ANYONE- else? It _had_ to be her… I'll find out what's been going on soon enough, or at least, I really hope I can.

Fuck you, Cartman

**Chapter 2! Thanks for reading, and please leave a review if you like/dislike parts!**

**Also, I thought I might as well make it perfectly clear who some of the characters are: Kylie is Kyle, Stacy is Stan, Kendra/Kenny is Kenny, Erica is Cartman, Twyla is Tweek, Tonya is Token, Crissy is Craig, Claire is Clyde, Marjorine is (obvi) Butters, Ben is Bebe, Winston is Wendy, and Andy is Annie. I'll try to make it a bit more obvious throughout the story who's who when I introduce more characters.**

**XOXO- tappret43**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, readers! I won't bore you with my intro to Chapter 3 (and hopefully not with the chapter itself!), but I want to thank all my readers, whether you've left me comments, reviews, faves, follows or not! Please feel encouraged to leave a helpful review or tell me what parts you like. Remember, it's my critics that help me become a better writer!**

**Thanks and enjoy!**

The next day I was feeling sick to my stomach, a persistent nausea that hadn't left since Cartman yelled at me in the cafeteria. I had tried asking to stay home, but my mother wouldn't buy any bullshit excuse I could have made up. Not that I ever faked an illness, or anything, but she hated it when I missed "precious schooltime."

Ike was waiting with my parents downstairs for me while I moped around, holding up breakfast.

"Oh, Kylie, bubbeleh, there you are! We were wondering when you'd come down," my mom greets me with her usual judgmental tone. "Now sit down," she pulled out a chair for me, "and let me get you some food on that plate!"

I sat between my little brother, Ike, and my dad. I hadn't really been spending time with my family, exclusively, as of late. My mom had been preoccupying me with schoolwork and studying for the last year. In fact, as she was preparing breakfast, she brought this subject up. "Now, Kylie, since the semester is nearly over, I think it would be best if we start looking over college options!" I hoped and prayed to Moses she was joking. I was only a sophomore!

"It's very important to start early you know-" She droned on and on, reciting her usual speech while I rested my chin on my palm and turned my head towards Ike. "College is very important, Kylie! If you don't take it seriously now, you'll be sorry for the rest of your life!" I lip-synced to Ike as he tried to hold back laughter. I finished impersonating my mother to my fork, dangling it between my fingers.

"KYLIE! Are you even listening to me?" I dropped my fork immediately, turning to face my angered mother.

"Y-yes, of course! I just, I- I've had a lot to think about lately, and I'm kind of tired right now." I tried for an innocent smile and continued before my mom got a chance to speak again. "And you're right- colleges are a good thing to be looking into right now, and I'll get to that as soon as I can. Thank you." I had long since learned how to get out of trouble when my mom caught me not caring.

"Well alright," she relaxed a little, picking up the hot pan and bringing it over to the table, "but I expect some very serious thinking to be going on in there!" She poked at my forehead after setting down the pan and her potholder. I gave a little breathy laugh before turning to my plate and serving myself.

A few minutes of my parents talking about politics to each other, I ceased my act and went back to being gloomy and confused. Ike took notice and craned his head into my field of vision, raising an eyebrow as if to ask "you're being weird. What's wrong?" I gave him a quick thin-lipped smile and began to play with my eggs, spearing them with my fork until I could do so no more, sliding them off by scraping my fork against my plate and repeating.

"Kylie, you really should be eating," I heard my mom complaining; mindlessly ignoring her advice. I felt like letting my head fall onto the tabletop, giving up on carrying it. I didn't, though. Ike continued to stare at me throughout the meal, only looking away when I left the house for the bus stop.

Stace had her license, but hardly ever drove, choosing to stick with our age old tradition of riding the bus together. My stomach was in knots when I arrived, only worsened by seeing that Kenny and Cartman were already there.

"Oh, great! Kyle's here!" That stupid nickname… "Come on," Cartman turned to me, glaring over her shoulder at Kenny half-heartedly. "Tell Ken how I'm, like, totally cooler than Winston." She continued on about the "dumb hippie" while I tried desperately to hide my flustered face by keeping my head turned from her. I was _s_till undeniably pissed, but I wasn't going to give in to her. I folded my arms calmly (or as calmly as I could be) above my stomach, starting to wish that I had eaten that morning.

"Kyle? Kylie!" Cartman waved her hand in my face, desperately trying to get my attention. "Look at me, you fucking Jew!Ky-"

I stomped on her foot, sending her backwards to clutch her shoe. "Jesus Christ, Kylie! What the fuck is your problem?!" I only turned my head further, trying to give her as little attention as possible.

"I was only trying to make small talk," she continued to complain, drawing the attention and bored glares of our two friends.

"Well, I'm surprised," I decided to retort sarcastically, "I mean, I thought that you had standards and wouldn't stoop so low as to talk to _me_!" I tried to keep my cool, I really did, but I couldn't. I yelled, but I think I had gotten my message across.

Cartman sputtered silently before huffing out a breath and returning to her spot between Stace and Kenny.

Stace had begun a new topic of conversation to lighten the mood, but the bus swept us up before anyone could reply. Stace and Ken sat together, due to the fact that Winston had been sitting with Ben, and I took mine towards the back of the bus, having the whole spot to myself. Cartman walked down the aisle, head oscillating from window to window until her eyes rested on Marjorine, who eagerly patted the brown leather pad supporting her, encouraging Cartman to sit with her. Cartman winced visibly at the blonde and looked over at me.

I glared daggers at her and hoisted my bookbag up onto the free space beside me. She retained eye contact and scowled at me before slumping down next to Marjorine, much to the small girl's delight. I almost wanted to smirk in vengeance, but I feared that would make my anger seem insincere, so instead I turned my back on the two and gazed out of the frosted window to my left.

I leaned my cheek and nose on the glass surface, cold condensation dribbling down as I exhaled, breathing out all my problems into the now-foggy windowpane. I lifted my lime-gloved hand, pointing out a finger and drawing a heart like the lovesick teenager I am. I frowned and narrowed my eyes at the picture, huffing out a pained breath and fading my masterpiece. I tightly shut my eyes and tried to block out the background noise on our ride to the school.

A few minutes before the 5-minute bell rang, I was at my locker, fixing my braid. Furrowed brow and thin-lipped, I tried to get my monstrously thick scarlet hair to co-operate and stay in the damned elastic band. In my small magnetic mirror, the livid face of Erica Cartman appeared from behind my own.

I don't say anything, waiting for Cartman to explain her presence, which she does before I close my locker door and leave.

"I have to admit, I was a little shocked to see that you hate me enough to make me sit with Marje on the bus," she started, and I made no effort to hide my incredulous scoff.

"Were you _there _yesterday- oh, of course you were, because you were the one who made it sound to me and _everyone else_ that I _wanted_ to kiss you at Stace's party!"

"Well, duh, you clearly did." Her tone implies that this is basic knowledge. "I mean, who _wouldn't _want to kiss _me_?"

I roll my eyes and wear a face of fury and utter disbelief at how arrogant she's being in front of _me_ right now. "You really have some nerve, you know? You totally curse me out and try to further a rumor about me, then come up to me like the whole thing was _my _fault!" I turn back around and begin shoving textbooks and journals into my locker, not caring how loud I'm being. "-can't fucking believe-" I mutter under my breath, face absolutely burning with rage.

The bell rang, echoing through the nearly empty halls. I slammed the small door to my locker, zipped my bookbag and swung it over my shoulder, and turned to walk away.

_Away from my locker. Away from Cartman…_

The second I moved my leg to walk, I was startled by two arms, clad in thick red fabric, clashing with the metal faces of the wall of lockers on either side of me. I turned to look to Cartman, but my annoyed face was soon replaced with one of shock to see a devious smirk on the extremely close face of Cartman.

"G-get the fuck offa me!" I try to wiggle out out of my boundaries to no avail.

She chuckled, moving one of her hands to firmly but gently hold my jaw in place, tracing it to my chin. I felt like my face was on fire. I must have been blushing so hard… I bit my lip, staring into her deep brown eyes, reading nothing but wickedness in her features.

"I could keep you here all day. Watching you try to escape from me like a rat- a sneaky _Jew_-rat- in a locked cage." She sounded very intimidating and, judging by her expression… flirtatious? "But I wouldn't want to make you late."

She immediately let go, stuffing her gloved hands in the pockets of her large coat. I stared up at her in fear and confusion for a moment before taking a step back into the lockers, causing a the metal to shout at me for being so reckless. After that sound breaks the deafening silence, I hurry down the hall, pulling on my green ushanka that I forgot I was carrying.

As I approached a corner and turned, I saw Cartman looking back at me from further down the hall. She winked at me, and I felt my heartbeat quicken. I ran around the corner, breathing heavily, not believing what had just happened.

_Dude. What the fuck._

**Sorry if you're confused as to what's going on. I swear, everything will make sense soon.**

**I'll try to get over my newfound writers block and update soon with a new, captivating, and absolutely heartbreaking edition of 'I Hate That I Love You.' I'm planning on making this story about 8-10 chapters. It all depends on how I decide to change it later.**

**Also, have you guys been checking out season 18? Can't wait for this week's episode!**

**Stay safe!**

**-Tappret43**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello, readers! Short chapter this time; hope you enjoy it's contents!**

**Be sure to leave a comment on what you did/didn't like!**

**Thanks for keeping up with the story!**

All my life I had known Cartman to be shameless and proud, both of which were very annoying traits when possessed by her. Despite that they always came back to bite her in the ass, she had an easy time getting what she wanted because of them. I knew she had me in a checkmate, but I wasn't about to give in. I had to get to the bottom of this and find out why she was doing this.

For the next few weeks following that little, um, _incident_ in the hall, Cartman had been avoiding me every chance she got. The only times I ever got to speak with her were in group projects in class. As much as I wanted to forget about that afternoon and move on with my life pretending that she just hated me, I couldn't.

It wasn't until we were all playing video games at Cartman's house (Stace talked me into joining them) that the issue was brought up.

"No! Ken, you can't hit me! I'm on _your_ team!" Cartman was complaining, shoving Kenny with her elbow lightly.

"Oh, I know," Kenny assured, her voice muffled through her thick parka.

"Ugh, fuck you, Kenny!"

"Dude, I don't really blame her. You just stole her freakin' power-up," Stace added, causing Cartman's jaw to drop and eyes to roll.

Cartman scoffed. "Well, it's not _my_ fault! She was over there!" Cartman pointed to the other corner of the screen, pouting at our friends. "Kylie, back me up!"

I crossed one leg over the other, turning away from her slightly. "Why? You deserved it. I'm not gonna defend you."

"Are you guys _all_ ganging up on me?! I thought you were my friends," Cartman shouted as she got up off the couch and walked into her kitchen.

"Whatever, man, let's keep playing," Stace said, shrugging off Cartman's outburst like always. I envied her ability to do that.

I got up and followed Cartman, putting my controller down and ignoring whatever Stace said to get me to tell her where I was going. Cartman was looking through her fridge. She turned around with a can of soda in her hand and leaned against the closed refrigerator door.

"What do you want, Jew?" She asked, looking down at her can to open it.

I nervously crossed my arms and began to fidget with my shirt sleeves. I wanted an explanation. I wanted her confirmation that, in some fucked up way, felt the same way I felt for her. I wanted to understand her. But nobody understands Erica Cartman. That's how it's always been, and always will be.

Ever since I can remember, Cartman has had walls up. She doesn't show emotion and when she does it's almost always fake. Crocodile tears she uses to get what she wants. I must admit, it's an effective tactic, but due to her using it constantly, nobody trusts her.

She never let her walls down and she wasn't about to make an exception. I was just like anybody else; a untrustworthy nosey stranger.

I realized that I had been grieving about this in real time when Cartman cleared her throat. I looked up at her, eyes wide with desire. Both for her and for answers.

"I want to talk," I try, already doubtful that she'll cooperate.

"What about, Kylie?" She responded, turning to Stace's cupboards to get a glass.

I rolled my eyes. "I think you _know_ what, Cartman. Don't play dumb!"

Cartman scoffed and turned back to me. "Dumb? I don't exactly see what's dumb about being able to blackmail someone so geniusly."

Blackmail? I suppose I'm stuck under her control as _if_ it were blackmail…

"It's not genius, asshole, it's fucked up! How can you screw with people like this? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Cartman looked like I had just slapped her. "_Excuse me?_" She walked towards me, expression not faltering whatsoever. "I could fuck with you _however _I wanted, and you really think it's a good idea to insult me?"

I narrowed my eyes mimicking her disgusted face. "How can you live with yourself?" I began to walk towards her, causing her to stumble slightly, likely out of surprise. "You are a terrible person, Cartman, and I'm ashamed to think I ever lik-" I cut myself off and diverted my eyes, lips thin and cheeks on fire. I couldn't believe I just started to say that.

Any submission Cartman's features wore were replaced entirely with mischief.

"You what, now?"

"Nothing. Screw you."

"Yeah, I bet you'd like to."

"Fuck off, Cartman." I began to exit the kitchen to return to Stace and Kenny.

"Why do it myself," Cartman pushed me to the side, away from the doorway, and against a wall. " when I have a Jew who'd do it for me?"

My body tensed up. My secret had been spilled to the last person I wanted to find out. If I thought I was in trouble earlier, Cartman was surely going to make my life a living hell now.

"Cartman, I-"

"God, this explains so much! I mean, I always _knew_ you were gay, but for _me_?" She poked her chest with her index finger. "I feel so honored!"

I struggled to get away from her, but she had me pinned.

"And now, to add to my luck, I've got someone who will do whatever I want."

"In your fucking dreams, fatass." I squirmed some more, but the pressure she had on my collarbone with her forearm only increased.

"Well, unless of course she wants everyone to find out she has the hots for her _female_ archnemesis?"

_Archnemesis_. She always loved to be dramatic.

"... Fine. Just let me go."

She instantly released her hold on me and stepped back. I was too afraid to move at first, but I tested the waters by swaying to the side, and immediately after hurried back into the living room. I picked up my jacket, gloves, and hat and gave a quick excuse as to why I was leaving before dashing out the door and back home.

Cartman had dirt on me and she wasn't going to rest until she got what she wanted.

What the hell did she want from me?


End file.
